


Welcome to the Revolution

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sex Shop, Crack, Developing Relationship, Embarrassment, Friendship, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Potential Kink Shaming, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:59:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1896543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre choked on his water. “I’m sorry,” he spluttered. “You’re planning on doing <em>what</em>?”</p><p>Enjolras did not blush, though he lifted his chin defiantly. “I told you,” he said calmly, “in an effort to promote Les Amis’s efforts in encouraging healthy and consensual sexual activities among all genders and orientations, I’m taking Bahorel’s old job for a week.”</p><p>There was a brief pause as Combeferre just gaped at him before saying weakly, “Bahorel’s old job is in a <em>sex shop</em>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Revolution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [satb31](https://archiveofourown.org/users/satb31/gifts).



> Suzi wanted a sex shop AU because of a shop she saw in Atlanta called "Ins-erection" with a tagline of "Welcome to the Revolution", and, well, I tried.
> 
> Hella cracky, featuring friends being absolutely terrible.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Enjolras's views on some of his friends' kinks are entirely his own, and any kink shaming is unintended. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Combeferre choked on his water. “I’m sorry,” he spluttered. “You’re planning on doing  _what_?”

Enjolras did not blush, though he lifted his chin defiantly. “I told you,” he said calmly, “in an effort to promote Les Amis’s efforts in encouraging healthy and consensual sexual activities among all genders and orientations, I’m taking Bahorel’s old job for a week.”

There was a brief pause as Combeferre just gaped at him before saying weakly, “Bahorel’s old job is in a  _sex shop_.”

“Exactly,” Enjolras said brightly. “And I hope you’re on board with it. I’m thinking of maybe holding some demonstrations? How to safely use bondage equipment, how to establish a non-verbal safeword, things like that. Cosette volunteered to demonstrate pegging with Marius.”

It was Courfeyrac’s turn to choke, and when he resurfaced from his coughing it was to ask hoarsely, “Is this because Grantaire told you at the last Les Amis meeting that you wouldn’t know what a dildo looked like if it was fucking you in the ass?”

Now Enjolras did blush, his eyes flashing at the memory. It was what had started this entire mess — Enjolras had been expounding on the general direction of Les Amis’ plans for sexual freedom as one of the next big movements, including educating the public on a variety of things related to sex. In general the consensus had been positive, but Grantaire, of course, couldn’t leave things alone. “And who is going to be doing this ‘education’?” he had asked, sounding more curious than anything. “You? Because while you are poster boy for many things, sexual liberation is not necessarily one of them.”

Enjolras had crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And what is that exactly supposed to mean?”

Grantaire had raised an eyebrow at him. “Nothing at all, Noble Leader. We may just want to choose someone with a public perception of knowing what he’s talking about in this arena.”

“I’m not a virgin,” Enjolras had said, a little dumbly.

Grantaire’s eyebrow went even higher. “And I never said that you were,” he returned coolly. “Especially as what you’ve done or haven’t done sexually is none of my business. That being said, you don’t exactly give off an experienced vibe, and perception matters, however much we wish it wouldn’t.”

That had mostly been the end of the conversation, though Grantaire’s words had niggled their way into the back of Enjolras’s mind. But they weren’t the  _sole_  reason why Enjolras wanted to do this, to work in the sex shop. For starters, it had a  _fantastic_  pun for a name — “Ins-erection”, with the tagline “Welcome to the Revolution.” And sure, maybe a sexual revolution wasn’t the most important in the grand scheme of things, but in the LGBTQ+ rights movement, normalizing and working to de-fetishize the various types of consensual sex practiced by individuals was an important start (including normalizing the concept of the asexuality spectrum, since not desiring sex was as important and natural as desiring it). And it could lead into bigger, better things, like changing sex education curriculum in schools, or even more.

And Enjolras thought that familiarizing himself with that which he was not particularly acquainted was a good start. Which had led him to the idea of working in the sex shop. “Anyway,” he said loudly, ignoring Courfeyrac’s question. “I hope you’re both on board with this, because it’s happening. For the next week, I am a proud worker at Ins-erection.”

He stood and walked away, leaving Courfeyrac and Combeferre staring after him. “He’s toast,” Courfeyrac said faintly. “The first time Enjolras tried to discuss anal sex with me he stuttered for fifteen minutes straight and blushed and never even managed to get the words out.”

“It wasn’t much better when he tried to talk to me about it,” Combeferre said grimly, sitting back in his seat. “How long do you think he’ll last?”

Courfeyrac tapped his chin thoughtfully, his eyes starting to gleam. “Depends. How much do you want to bet on it?”

Combeferre raised an eyebrow at him. “You really want to bet on something this sensitive?” Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow right back, and Combeferre sighed. “Fair point. What’s the over-under? And who all are you planning on involving?”

“Well, this is a Les Amis initiative, is it not?” Courfeyrac asked innocently. “Seems only fair for everyone to get involved, don’t you think?”

Combeferre sighed. “I give it eight hours.”

Courfeyrac smirked. “I’ll do it in six.”

* * *

 

Enjolras’s first half-hour of working in Ins-erection was uneventful, though he did help a remarkably chipper young girl buy her first vibrator (he steered her away from one that was nine inches long and meant to look like a “real” penis — Enjolras may not have a  _lot_  of experience, but he had yet to encounter a cock that looked anything like that). But then, just when the clock struck ten, the bell over the door chimed and Courfeyrac strolled in, whistling loudly. “Why, fancy seeing you here!” he said cheerfully.

Enjolras sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Whatever you’re planning, it’s not going to work,” he warned Courfeyrac.

“Who, me?” Courfeyrac said, mock-innocently, leaning against the counter. “I just came in to purchase some of my favorite lube. And maybe see if you had gotten any new strap-ons in.”

Though a slight blush rose in Enjolras’s cheeks, he was undeterred. “We have, actually,” he said primly, stepping out from behind the counter and leading Courfeyrac down the appropriate aisle. “These here have new and improved straps that are supposed to be more comfortable, and this one is supposed to feel very realistic.”

Courfeyrac pulled one off of the shelf and looked at it mournfully. “I always hate when my partners end up better hung than I am,” he sighed. “Ah well. I’ll add this to my arsenal.”

Since it was Courfeyrac, Enjolras had expected things to be much more eventful, and he stared suspiciously at Courfeyrac all while he checked out. “Well, thanks for everything!” Courfeyrac said, giving him a wave as he left.

Enjolras should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

The next person to stroll into the shop was Éponine who announced loudly, “Montparnasse and I are off again and I find myself missing his massive cock. What have you got for me?”

This led to several awkward conversations about length and girth, but nothing that Enjolras couldn’t handle, and Éponine seemed happy with the dildo Enjolras picked out for her, which had a suction cup on the end that she seemed very intrigued by.

After Éponine came Feuilly, who had an unlit cigarette in his mouth and seemed about as eager for this to happen as Enjolras was. “Porn,” he grunted, when Enjolras asked what he was looking for.

Enjolras’s expression twisted — he knew the least savory part of this job would be selling porn, since that industry had many problems, but he also knew that it was part of the job. “What kind of porn?” he asked bracingly.

Feuilly reached up to take the cigarette from his lips and tuck it behind his ear, avoiding Enjolras’s gaze when he muttered, “Midget porn.”

For a long moment, Enjolras stared at him, speechless. “Courfeyrac put you up to this,” he said, finally, when he was able to regain his composure. “Please tell me Courfeyrac put you up to this?”

“Why?” Feuilly asked defiantly. “You trying to kinkshame me?”

Enjolras held up his hands innocently. “No, of course not. I mean, if you have the time I would definitely like to have a conversation with you about the problematic aspects of porn, as well as the fetishization of little people, but—”

Feuilly cracked first, ducking his head and flushing as red as his hair. “Please no,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes, Courfeyrac put me up to this, I watch my porn online for free, and  _yes_ , I know how problematic the entire industry is. I really didn’t want any part of this, but, well, he’s paying me, so.”

Sighing heavily, Enjolras looking up to the ceiling as if seeking support from the heavens and counted to ten. “And I suppose he’s having all of our friends do this?” Feuilly’s silence was the only answer Enjolras needed. “Come on,” he sighed. “I’ll show you some reasonably priced porn that may be more to your interests and is pretty responsibly made.”

With Feuilly satisfied — though also avoiding Enjolras’s gaze — Enjolras settled in to wait for his next victim. He didn’t have to wait long. It was Prouvaire, drifting in with an almost dreamy expression on his face. “I’m looking for bondage equipment,” he told Enjolras calmly.

“What kind?” Enjolras asked, perking up, since this wasn’t too bad of a request, all things considered.

“Something safe for autoerotic asphyxiation.”

Enjolras stopped in his tracks, feeling himself blush. “Um,” he said slowly. “That, uh, that carries some risks with it, which I’m sure you know.” He was trying very desperately not to envision Jehan in that situation.

Prouvaire just nodded sagely. “I know. But I like to get close to death. It adds to the pleasure, and makes my dick ridiculously hard.”

Well, there went  _that_  plan.

Despite his furious blush and desperate attempts not to picture Jehan in any situation involving erotic asphyxiation — which, Christ, was a kink Enjolras hadn’t even known he might have — Enjolras managed to get Jehan what he was looking for and out of the building without any incidents, and was even willing to breathe a sigh of relief.

But then Grantaire came in.

“Good God,” Enjolras muttered upon seeing him. “Doesn’t this shop ever get any  _actual_  customers?”

“Hard to say,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “I think Courfeyrac’s paying off anyone who tries to come in to come back a different day.”

Enjolras sighed and rested his head on his arms on top of the counter. “What’s the over-under on when I call it quits?”

Grantaire smirked. “You know it wouldn’t be any fun if I told you that.”

Sighing again, Enjolras lifted his head to glare at him. “What is it you’ve been sent in here to buy? A dildo? A butt plug? More porn?”

“Hardly,” Grantaire said, sounding almost bored as he leaned against the counter. “I’ve been sent in to ask about kits used to clone a dick and turn it into a dildo.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. “That seems…surprisingly tame.”

Grantaire smirked again. “And I’m supposed to ask if I can use it on yours, since that’s the only way I’m ever going to get your dick up my—”

Groaning, Enjolras buried his head in his arms again. “Please don’t. Please.”

“Fine,” Grantaire said, with a long-suffering sigh. “But Courfeyrac’s going to be disappointed in me.”

“Seems a small price to pay,” Enjolras snipped, raising his head to glare again at Grantaire.

Grantaire shrugged. “Fair point.” He started to head out, then hesitated. “Just remember, there  _are_  other ways to learn some of this stuff that wouldn’t be nearly as bad as this.”

“This wasn’t bad until Courfeyrac got involved!” Enjolras shouted after Grantaire, who just gave him a wave. Thankfully, at that point, it was lunchtime, and Enjolras was able to shut the shop down for a half hour while he took his lunch break.

But then after lunch, it was all one big line of his friends, coming in for other things: Bossuet wanted liquid latex and spent the entire time explaining his latex kink to Enjolras, and how it played into his medical kink; Bahorel wanted to know about sounding, and upon discovering they didn’t sell any of the necessary rods at the store, made Enjolras call around to the other sex shops in the area, which was fairly mortifying, especially as he had to explain what sounding was at one point; Joly came in asking about floggers and asked Enjolras if he would mind hitting him with a few to test them; and, just when Enjolras thought he was going to get over that experience, which had left both of them in rather awkward situations that at least Joly could leave the shop to alleviate (Enjolras thought desperately of dead animals and his grandparents having sex), Marius came in asking about nipple clamps, and asking if Enjolras had ever used them on himself or anyone else and what he thought it might feel like.

Finally, though, Marius left with his nipple clamps, and Enjolras glanced at the clock with relief. It was almost time to go home, almost time to close down the shop, and he might actually make it through his first day unscathed.

But he had one friend left to come in — Combeferre.

Combeferre entered the shop with purpose, and didn’t even glance at Enjolras as he headed down one of the aisles, looking like he knew exactly what he was looking for, so Enjolras mostly tried to ignore him, as poor of customer service as that may be. He just didn’t know if he could face this with Combeferre, who was like a brother to him — there was far too much awkwardness involved.

After a long, tense stretch, though, Combeferre called, “Hey, Enjolras, can you come give me your opinion on something?”

Enjolras took a deep, steadying breath, and left the counter to slowly head down the aisle, crossing his fingers and hoping it wasn’t as bad as he thought it might be.

It was worse.

Combeferre was in the changing room, whose purpose was mostly for those who wanted to try on certain gear to check for fit. They were supposed to try it on over clothing, but Combeferre had ignored that, instead slipping on a pair of neon pink lace panties and a matching bustier. “Do you like the pink?” Combeferre asked nonchalantly. “Or do you think the yellow would look better?”

Enjolras stared at his best friend and made a small whimpering noise. “Nope,” he said, turning on heel and marching over to the desk, pulling out the store keys and slamming them down on the counter. “I can’t do this. You’re locking up, I quit.”

He heard Combeferre make a triumphant sound, but didn’t even care, slamming the door of the shop behind him as he stormed out. When he got outside, he bent over, resting his hands against his knees and trying to take deep breaths. “If you wanted to learn about sex toys, you only had to ask,” Grantaire said casually, from where he was leaning against the wall outside the shop.

Enjolras rolled his eyes, still beet red and still bent over. “It’s not the sex toys,” he mumbled. “It, was, um, unexpected sightings.”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow and pushed away from the wall. “What was it that did you in? I expected the nipple clamps from Marius to do it.”

Shaking his head, Enjolras mumbled, “Combeferre and lingerie.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said, sounding slightly disappointed. “Not your kink?”

“The opposite problem,” Enjolras said, his voice higher-pitched than normal as he slowly straightened, avoiding Grantaire’s gaze. “Very much my kink. Very much not what I ever wanted to see Combeferre in. Sex may actually be ruined for me.”

Grantaire couldn’t help himself — he laughed. “I somehow doubt that sex will be ruined forever for you,” he said, patting Enjolras’s shoulder sympathetically. “And, look, I wasn’t kidding, or not entirely — working in a sex shop isn’t the only way to learn about sex toys, or other items of pleasure to help your education in the sexual revolution.”

Enjolras shook his head again. “What, you could show me?” he asked sarcastically.

Grantaire shrugged. “Me. One of our other friends. Someone you trust.” He waggled his eyebrows at Enjolras. “Combeferre.”

Enjolras yelped and shook his head wildly. “No thanks, not Combeferre. He’s like my brother and — Jesus, my  _retinas_.”

Laughing again, Grantaire started walking backward so he could look at Enjolras as they headed away from the shop. “Well, I think there’s a lesson to be learned from all of this, and that’s not to trust Courfeyrac with anything like this.”

“Well, that’s one lesson, anyway,” Enjolras muttered. He glanced up at Grantaire. “How do you feel about breath play?”

Grantaire raised both eyebrows now and almost fell over as his steps stuttered. “Um. That depends. Why are you asking?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Maybe I thought I’d take you up on your offer to…increase my education.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, right,” he said sourly. “Why do you  _really_ want to know?”

Enjolras frowned. “I’m not kidding. Of all of our friends, you were the only one who offered to help instead of just taking advantage of my…slight tendency to rush into things without thinking about the consequences and what I’d be facing.”

“Well, our friends are dicks,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “But you know if you asked any of them to stop, they would have. They respect you that much.”

Shrugging, Enjolras said quietly, “Yeah, but you respected me enough to not even start.”

Grantaire shrugged as well. “Fair point.” He turned so that he was walking beside Enjolras rather than in front of him, and nudged him companionably. “So have you learned from any of this what things you’d rather avoid if we continue your own sexual liberation?”

Enjolras shuddered. “Yeah — no little people and no nipple clamps.”

“That…is a remarkably specific fantasy that, thankfully, I don’t have.” Grantaire glanced sideways at him. “You really trust me?”

“I really trust you.”

Grantaire shook his head and smiled slightly. “Then my friend — welcome to the revolution.”


End file.
